


is that a gun in your chino shorts or are you just happy to see me?

by chewhy



Series: haikyuu organized crime [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (but the stabbing is very lighthearted), Accountant Azumane Asahi, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Comedy, Dark Comedy, Gen, M/M, Nervous Azumane Asahi, Organized Crime, Stabbing, found family trope except within an organized crime ring, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29437527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chewhy/pseuds/chewhy
Summary: the tweet:"asanoya bodyguard au where everybody THINKS that noya is the target and asahi is the bodyguard but actually asahi is the target and noya is the bodyguard and asahi is just always in a constant state of fear while noya happily murders people"the fic: In which Azumane Asahi, accountant (28), is hired to run the accounts of the largest drug cartel in all of Japan. If you ask him? Asahi would honestly much rather go back to helping old ladies file their taxes for the first time since 1968. They don't even offer health insurance benefits to part timers, for Christ's sake!
Relationships: Azumane Asahi & Karasuno Volleyball Club, Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu
Series: haikyuu organized crime [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162337
Comments: 3
Kudos: 48
Collections: chewhy's completed commissions





	is that a gun in your chino shorts or are you just happy to see me?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mellojello999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellojello999/gifts).



> thank you mellow for commissioning me! i hope this was worth the long wait, and happy valentines day!

Daichi pulls back the white cloth, cringing back when he sees the mangled mess of blood and bone under it. He lets the cloth fall back down with a sigh, turning to face Sugawara. 

“Get Kuroo on the phone. And see if we can find anybody to fill this man’s position,” he says, ripping off his gloves as he exits the room. “Somebody with a clean background, preferably,” he continues, pausing to look back at the body lying on the table. 

“Do you think somebody with no record would agree to work with us?” Sugawara asks, even as he begins pulling out his phone to make the necessary calls. 

Daichi frowns. “They’ll have to.”

–

Asahi pauses, frowning as he shifts through the papers in front of him. 

“Ma’am, when was the last time you filed your taxes?”

The elderly lady in front of him just smiles and points at the papers. “My son does them for me every year.” 

Asahi sighs, putting his head in his hands. “These records show that your taxes haven’t been filed since…” When the lady just tilts her head, blinking up at him with innocent eyes, Asahi finds himself trailing off and plastering a smile on his face. “That’s fine. Not to worry, I’m sure we’ll be able to figure this out together.” 

Before he can continue, he hears a commotion at the front door and looks up just in time to see a flustered Shimizu rounding the corner, a tall man dressed in an expensive looking black suit following right on her heels. 

“I’m sorry, what’s going on?” Asahi asks, standing up to step around the desk. 

When the man sees him, his eyes trace up and down his figure before he speaks into his phone. “I thought you said he was clean?” 

There’s some mumbling that Asahi can’t make out on the other end of the line, before the man is snapping back, “Well, he looks like a thug. Whatever, he’ll do.”

Before Asahi can react, he finds himself shrinking back as the man’s gaze falls directly on him. 

“Can I help you?” he asks, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. He hopes he isn’t here to rob them, as they don’t keep very much cash in their office. Asahi thinks he might be able to scrounge up forty dollars from his wallet, but he realizes now that he’s left it in his car. 

“Azumane Asahi?”

“Yes,” Asahi answers, finding himself bowing a little out of habit. “You can call me Asahi. Or, uh. If you want to, I mean.” When the man begins walking around the room, inspecting the small amount of decorations Asahi has around the office, Asahi turns to Shimizu and tilts his head to the woman still sitting in front of his desk. 

Taking the hint, Shimizu quickly escorts her out of the room leaving just Asahi and the strange man alone. 

“Would you like to take a seat?” Asahi asks, gesturing to the chair. 

Thankfully, the man sits down, although his presence still somehow manages to fill the room, suffocating Asahi as he perches at the edge of his own seat. 

Finally, the man pulls a business card out from somewhere, setting it down in front of Asahi. “My name is Daichi. I’m looking to hire an accountant for my… family business. Are you taking clients at this time?” 

Asahi stares down at the sleek black card in front of him. 

_ Karasuno Associates _ . 

There’s not much other information on the card, other than a logo with a crow on the back. 

“How big is your business, exactly?” Asahi asks, pulling out some paper to jot down some notes. 

“Oh, not too big,” Daichi answers, pulling a cigarette out of nowhere. “Less than fifteen men.” 

“Men?” Asahi asks, coughing lightly as he stands to open a window. 

“Employees,” Daichi corrects himself. 

“How about revenue?” 

Daichi shrugs, blowing out a stream of smoke. Asahi winces as he thinks of his brand new carpet. “I can’t be sure of the exact amounts but not to worry, we don’t often exceed a billion.” 

Asahi finds himself choking, and it’s not on cigarette smoke. “ _ A billion? _ ”

At that, Daichi frowns, stubbing out the cigarette on the arm of his chair. “I said not a billion.”

Asahi thinks he might pass out. 

“You know what, I think I’ll see if I can find somebody else,” Daichi finally says, standing up when there’s no response from Asahi. It’s at that moment that a gun falls out of his jacket and onto the floor, skidding across the room and stopping right at Asahi’s feet. 

This time, Asahi really does pass out.

–

When Asahi comes to, he can hear two unfamiliar voices whispering above him. 

“Look, I was just trying to be a little bit intimidating because I thought he was a thug or something. Come on, look at his face! He looks like a fucking samurai.” 

“Yeah, well you didn’t have to knock him out and bring him to our warehouse of all places!” 

“I didn’t even touch him! And what was I supposed to do, the secretary was gone and I was going to be late to our meeting, what if– is he awake?”

Asahi groans, blinking against the harsh white light as he sits upright. In front of him is the man from earlier, as well as somebody he doesn’t recognize. 

The gray haired man gives him a wide smile, holding out his hand. “Congratulations! You have officially been hired as Karasuno Associates’ new accountant. Benefits include life insurance and a bodyguard, no health insurance.” 

Asahi promptly passes out again.

–

When he’s finally awake, for real this time, and has had some of the situation explained to him, Asahi wishes he could wake up again. Maybe this whole day has just been a strange, weird dream. He’d take old ladies who haven’t filed taxes since 1968 over this anyday. 

“So you’re saying that I have to work for you guys,” Asahi says, staring incredulously at the two men in front of him, “or else you’ll kill me, and also maybe take my family hostage.” 

The man who’s introduced himself as Sugawara smiles brightly, giving him a small round of applause. “Yeah, you got it! See, he’s not so slow after all.” 

Daichi scoots his chair closer to Asahi, grabbing both of his hands. “Please, we’ll pay you a lot. Our finances are a mess right now, and none of us are good at math. Especially our new recruits,” he begs, demeanor entirely different from earlier in the day. He mumbles something under his breath that sounds like, “Empty brain Hinata Kageyama.”

“I… why would you  _ kill _ me?” Asahi squeaks out, feeling tears forming at the corners of his eyes. 

“My god, now he’s crying,” Sugawara says, shaking a finger at Daichi. “Look what you’ve done.” 

“I didn’t do anything! You were the one who threatened his family,” Daichi hisses. When Asahi lets out a loud sob, Daichi runs his hand through his hair. “Here, how about this,” he says, addressing Asahi again. “You’ll work with us for a trial period of six months, and after that if you don’t want the job, we’ll let you go. No strings attached. Just pinky promise not to tell anybody, otherwise we’ll probably kill you.” 

Asahi just stares at Daichi with wide eyes. “Don’t you guys use NDAs like a normal person?”

–

In the end, Asahi agrees to the trial period. Half of his reasoning is out of fear, and the other half is out of pity when he sees the absolute chaos of their financial statements. 

He’s still sifting through documents and excel sheets when Daichi pops back in the little office he’s been set up in with a nervous smile. 

“I really don’t need any hot chocolate or finger sandwiches or fancy sushi with expensive caviar and little unnecessary yet elegant gold flakes on top, but thank you,” Asahi says for the fourth time. 

“No, no. It’s not about that,” Daichi says, entering the room and shutting the door quickly behind him. “Just one more thing I thought I should mention. You know what Sugawara said earlier about benefits?” 

“Um, no health insurance?” Asahi asks. To be honest, most of that conversation still feels like a dream to him. 

“Ah yes, he did say that, but I wanted to address something else. To put it simply, there might be some people trying to kill you. Probably not, but a few of our previous employees have turned up dead,” Dachi says quickly. “Just try not to get caught up with any of the gambling rings or loan sharks around town, okay? You should be fine with your record. Anyway, this is Nishinoya, your bodyguard.” 

Before the words can even sink in, Daichi is kicking open the door to reveal… A kid dressed in a ridiculous Hawaiian shirt, chino shorts, and flip flops. 

A kid who is also carrying a giant metal bat. 

“Sup.”

And then a bald guy runs up behind him and stabs him in the back with a knife. 

“Dude,” the bald guy says, gaping at the bloodstain that’s slowly spreading over the floral pattern of the kid’s shirt. “You were supposed to dodge that.” 

The kid simply tugs out the knife, tossing it over his shoulder to approach Asahi, who stares at the little trail of blood he leaves in his path. “I got distracted by Mr. McHotty Samurai Man over here,” he says, reaching out to grab Asahi’s hand and lift it up to his lips. “But not to worry, I’ll still be able to make our date tonight. ‘Tis only a flesh wound.” 

Asahi stares down at the streak of blood that’s left across the back of his hand. 

For the third time that day, Asahi passes out. 

–

They eventually find their way to a hospital, mostly to get Asahi’s weak heart checked out, but also for Nishinoya’s stab wound, at Asahi’s insistence. 

“I’m fine,” Asahi insists, even as he tugs on his seatbelt in the passenger seat. “I can already feel my blood pressure dropping now that the scary guy isn’t around anymore.”

“The scary guy? Sugawara?” Nishinoya asks as he veers out of the parking lot. 

Asahi surreptitiously grips the handlebar over his head, bracing himself against the back of his seat. “Sugawara? He seemed nice, nah, the other one. Daichi?” 

Nishinoya barks out a laugh at that, turning to give Asahi a look. (Asahi really hopes Nishinoya will turn his head back to the road, any minute now.) “Nah, Daichi’s definitely the nicest. You just don’t know him well enough yet.” 

Asahi just nods, and gestures toward the road in hopes that Nishinoya will stop turning in his seat to face him. Asahi honestly isn’t sure if Nishinoya is old enough to have his driver’s license yet. Do his feet even reach the pedals?

By the time they get to the hospital, Asahi knuckles have fully merged with the handlebar. Nishinoya, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to particularly mind the fact that he’s trailing blood all over the leather of the car seat. 

Asahi stumbles along behind him, shadowing his footsteps closely. With Nishinoya running this way and that, Asahi’s honestly scared he’ll lose him in the chaos of the emergency room. 

“Excuse me,” a nurse says, coming up to them. “How can I help you?”

As she does, Asahi notices that she begins to throw glances over towards him, before leaning forward to usher Nishinoya to sit on a bed. 

“That man isn’t hurting you, is he? How old are you, kid?”

Nishinoya just glares up at her before stretching out five fingers in front of him. “I’m twenty-five.”

The nurse pats his knee, and then frowns when her hand comes away sticky. “Oh god. Oh god, you’re bleeding.”

Asahi clears his throat, coming a little bit closer. “Yes, that’s why we’re here. He was stabbed.” 

The nurse squints between the two of them before huffing out a sigh and ultimately deciding that Nishinoya’s open flesh wound takes priority over investigating whatever seems to be suspicious about Asahi, rushing to seek out a doctor. 

When she returns with a doctor in tow and sees to it that Nishinoya is being attended to, she whirls to face Asahi, hands on her hips. 

“What exactly is your relationship with the patient?” 

“Um…” Asahi finds himself trailing off, not really sure how to answer that without giving away any information that might end up with him dead in a ditch. 

“Bodyguard!” Nishinoya pipes up from behind a screen. 

At that, the nurse finally seems to relax as understanding takes over her features. “I see, I’m so sorry for assuming the worst,” she apologizes, drawing her hands back from Asahi and giving him a wide berth. “We’ll be very careful with your client, so please rest assured.” 

“Uh, right,” Asahi answers, scratching his head in confusion. Before she can leave the room, Asahi reaches out to tap on the nurse’s shoulder, causing her to let out a yelp as she jumps back. 

“I’m very sorry!” she squeaks out, holding her hands up in front of herself. 

“It’s okay!” Asahi answers, stooping in a panic to wave his hands reassuringly. “It’s fine, really! I just wanted to ask about possibly getting some anxiety medication?” 

“For your client?” 

Asahi blinks, confused for a moment as he wonders if part of the job as Karasuno’s new accountant includes obtaining anxiety medication for them. “Um, no. For myself.”

The nurse raises an eyebrow at that, muttering something about, “What kind of bodyguard has anxiety,” but writes him down a phone number to contact the psychiatry department, even as she continues to throw him furtive glances. 

“Why do they keep looking at me like that?” Asahi asks as he takes a seat next to Nishinoya’s bed. 

“Because you’re a scary lookin’ dude. I fucking love it, man,” Nishinoya says, throwing him a thumbs up only to wince in pain as the doctor jabs him in the side with a needle. 

“Please refrain from moving around too much.”

It doesn’t take too long for Nishinoya to get stitched up after that, and after paying for their bills and grabbing a lollipop and a sticker (“Isn’t that for kids?” “Everybody thinks I’m a kid anyway”) they head back out to the car. 

“Well,” Asahi says, clenching his fist tightly around the edge of his chair. “I suppose it’s back to the office then?”

Nishinoya snorts, staring at Asahi (instead of the road, oh god). “It’s nearly dinner time, Samurai Man! First, we’re going to get this baby,” he pats the leather under his seat, hand coming away sticky and red, “cleaned up and then we’ll hop on over to dinner – I was serious about that date.”

“Oh,” Asahi answers, blushing as he stares straight out at the road. “That’s um. That’s very–”

“Presumptuous of me? Sorry, I should have asked if you’re even interested in men but I have a bad habit of taking what I like,” Nishinoya says. “And if you don’t want it to be a date, just think of it as a company welcome dinner! It’s all going on Daichi’s card anyway.” 

Asahi just blinks, nodding as he’s jostled into the car door when they round a corner. 

Nishinoya grins at him, wide and bright as he says, “I hope I used ‘presumptuous’ correctly, I just learned it from Tsukki today.”

Asahi feels his heart skip a beat in his chest – likely from the way they stop merely a hair’s breadth away from the car in front of them, but also perhaps from something else – before he decides that maybe, just maybe, he won’t mind it if tonight’s dinner isn’t just a company welcome dinner. 

–

At the car wash, Asahi finds himself the subject of many stares once again. Everywhere he turns, somebody is staring at him with wide eyes, only to turn away quickly when they notice his gaze. 

“Am I really that scary?” Asahi whispers to Nishinoya, who’s squatting on the curb. 

Nishinoya flings him another thumbs up, this time with both hands, and nods. “Probably doesn’t help that you showed up in a bloody car with a companion that has a stab wound.” Nishinoya’s Hawaiian shirt flutters in the wind, exposing the bandages wrapped around his torso that are slowly seeping through with blood already. 

Asahi wonders when exactly Nishinoya unbuttoned his shirt. 

– 

“Now this,” Nishinoya says, slamming the double doors open with both palms, “is the best steak joint in town.” 

Asahi coughs lightly into his fist. “I’m sorry, but I don’t eat meat.” 

Before the hostess can even make their way over to them to seat them, Nishinoya is making a quick U-turn, furiously typing into his search bar, “best vegetarian restaurants around town”. 

“Are you vegan? Or just veggie?” he asks, not bothering to look up from his phone as he plows through the crowd on the sidewalk. 

It doesn’t seem to be a point of major concern as the crowd dissipates easily as soon as they spy Asahi’s imposing figure trailing behind him. 

“Pesketarian, actually. I can’t bear the thought of eating anything with a face. But I do eat seafood – I love seafood. And cheese.”

At that, Nishinoya perks up. “Seafood! We can do seafood.”

–

“Now this,” Nishinoya says, body slamming into the single door with less effect this time, “is the best sushi joint in town.” 

“Lovely,” Asahi says, trying to placate the hostess’s cowering figure with a gentle smile. He’s not entirely sure if it works as her steps move so quickly while guiding them to their table that Asahi isn’t entirely convinced she’s not trying to run away. 

They’re seated next to a small fountain that runs beside their feet. Koi fish swim inside, and Asahi coos at them, even as they ignore him and choose to swim in monotonous circles. 

Nishinoya doesn’t even bother to look at the menu, waving his hand as he says, “We’ll just have whatever the chef recommends.” 

Meanwhile, Asahi tries not to gape as he stares down at the number of zeros that fill the page before him. 

“Anything else for you sir?” the waiter’s voice comes from his right, and Asahi shakes his head, closing the menu with shaky fingers. 

“Actually,” he amends after a brief moment of thought. “Could I get some tea? Any kind is fine, just not caffeinated.” 

The waiter nods, bowing to them before making his way out of the room. 

“So,” Nishinoya says, staring into Asahi’s eyes with such an intensity that Asahi feels sweat begin to gather around his collar. “How’d you like your first day so far?”

“Ah,” Asahi tugs at his tie, feeling hot. “It was… nice. I think.” He feels his armpits begin to dampen as well, and wishes he could call the waiter back for a cold drink. 

“Are you lying?” 

Asahi realizes now why Nishinoya is his bodyguard and not the other way around – as childish as he looks and acts, the man has an incredibly powerful aura. 

“Well,” Asahi hedges. “My bodyguard did get stabbed, so that was definitely a negative.”

“Bahaha!” Nishinoya bursts out laughing, finally turning his gaze away to stare out the window. “I’m just teasing you, it’s okay. I do hope you’re getting settled in well though,” he continues. “I’m your bodyguard, but you can also think of me as a mentor figure in this team, yeah? Call me  _ senpai _ !”

“You’re three years younger than me.”

“Then  _ I _ shall call you  _ onee-chan _ !”

“Please don’t.”

“Okay, Asahi!”

Asahi manages to relax after that, settling back in his chair and tugging his tie and suit jacket off. “Well, if I’m being honest,” he finally says with a smile as the waiter brings giant trays and boats of sushi, “even if it was intimidating at first, the people definitely seem nice.”

“I’m glad,” Nishinoya answers, lifting a cup in cheers. “To your first day!”

“To my first day.”

–

Sometime in between the eel rolls and the yellowtail nigiri, Asahi remembers something that he’s been curious about all afternoon. 

“By the way,” he asks, hurrying to swallow his food, “Don’t you guys have like, some in house doctor who stitches up all your battle scars or something?” 

Nishinoya considers his question for a second before shaking his head, spraying out grains of rice as he talks. “Nah, life isn’t like a movie or anything. We get health insurance benefits like any normal employee – and you will, too, if you come on full time!” 

Asahi laughs as he hands Nishinoya a napkin. “Maybe I’ll consider it.”

–

Later, as they leave the restaurant, Nishinoya whips out a switchblade from some unknown crevice of his chino shorts to pick at his teeth. It’s only as the blade glints silver in the moonlight that Asahi is reminded of just what kind of people exactly his employers are. At some point during dinner, he had been able to forget, if for a brief moment, that Nishinoya lived in a completely different world than him. 

–

Six months later, and Asahi still isn’t quite used to the way Nishinoya drives as they speed their way through the streets of Tokyo. 

Since that first day, he’s met the rest of the Karasuno family (and family they truly are, as he watches their interactions wistfully from his desk, wondering if he could consider them family for himself one day, too), organized their accounts to save them millions of dollars, and even been mistaken for Nishinoya’s bodyguard one too many times. 

Still, he thinks back fondly on the first time he met the “newbie recruits” and the way Hinata immediately challenged him to a duel, or the time Tanaka proposed to Shimizu upon laying eyes on her when she came by to transfer some of Asahi’s paperwork to his new office. 

And now, exactly six months later, he’s about to assist Karasuno close a deal for the last time. 

“How much longer?” he gasps out, poking his head out of the window to gag when Nishinoya finally screeches to a stop at a red light. The reprieve from the incessant turns doesn’t last long as Nishinoya immediately slams his foot back down on the gas. 

“Oh, we’re basically there! Especially if I take this shortcut here…” 

They slam through a series of trash cans and a mailbox before they’re spit out of the alleyway and in front of a tall, glass building. Nishinoya hops out of the car and steps around to Asahi’s side, bowing as he holds the door open. 

“After you, good sir.”

Asahi promptly vomits all over Nishinoya’s shoes. (They were ugly boat shoes anyway. They are unfortunately replaced by the spare pair of Crocs Nishinoya keeps in the trunk.)

Finally gathering himself on (shaky) legs, Asahi straightens out his suit and grabs his briefcase before nodding to Nishinoya, who leads the way into the building. The moment they enter, they are surrounded by a familiar group of men Asahi has come to know as the Nekoma Group. 

“Ah, if it isn’t our favorite accountant!” Kuroo says, walking over with a smile and open arms. Asahi cringes back, while Nishinoya stands strong in front of him. 

“Please refrain from touching our employee.”

Kuroo just shrugs, holding his hands up as he takes a step back. “I promised not to kill him, relax, relax. Kenma, go ahead and pat them down.” 

Kenma just sighs, coming forward with a bucket as he grumbles under his breath about, “The tiny one’s gonna manage to keep something hidden on him anyway.” He barely spends a minute on Asahi, deeming him clear with a sweep of his eyes before turning to frown at Nishinoya. 

This spectacle has always been a favorite of Asahi’s to watch as Nishinoya proudly unbuttons his shirt, T-posing (in what he apparently believes to be an intimidating stance, but has yet to realize it is not) while Kenma fills his bucket. 

First, two pistols, the usual array of knives taped to his chest and back, a taser, this time an actual sword drawn out from his pants, a couple of hand grenades, and razors taped to the bottoms of his Crocs. Asahi recalls one time when Nishinoya managed to hide an entire metal bat in his pants – as a general rule, he doesn’t ask how. 

Once they’ve been cleared as safe, Kenma leads them the rest of the way into the gallery where everybody else is waiting. 

“Asahi, Nishinoya. You finally made it,” Daichi says, walking over with a glass of wine. Nishinoya plucks it out of his hands and chugs it down while Daichi frowns at him. “That wasn’t for you.” 

“Sorry,” Asahi says, apologizing on his behalf. “And sorry about the tardiness, we got lost on our way here.” He doesn’t mention the part where Nishinoya attempted to drive wheelies around a traffic circle. 

Daichi just shrugs, brushing it off. It’s a common enough occurrence that he’s learned not to mind too much. Nishinoya shows up when it matters, and that’s that. “The official contract details are pretty much set, anyway. I just figured you might enjoy the exhibit as a small goodbye gathering.” 

Asahi nods, turning around where he stands to take everything in. He sees the rest of Karasuno are here as well, most of them standing by the  _ hors d'oeuvres  _ as they chat with other faces that Asahi has come to be familiar with during his half year in the business. Hinata and Kageyama are engaged in what appears to be a mini sausage eating competition while Yamaguchi keeps count and Tsukishima looks on, disgusted. 

Beyond that, Oikawa catches sight of Asahi and throws him a smile, raising his glass of wine to him in salute. Asahi just blushes, avoiding eye contact as he tries not to remember the embarrassing mess of a first encounter they’d had, what with assuming Oikawa was one of the more… exotic entertainers Daichi had hired for a business meeting. 

Next to Oikawa, Aone stands with the same stoic expression as ever, staring hard at the Rembrandt hung on the wall. Asahi is just glad not to have the man’s attention on him again, especially after the first time he’d been mistaken for an enemy assassin. 

All around them, Asahi recognizes the sleek black suits of the Inarizaki crew as they stand guard at each painting the Asahi passes. 

As he stands to stare up at a Rothko, Kita smiles at him, tilting his head towards it. 

“It’s incredible, isn’t it? Seems so simple with just plain squares of color, but it can convey so much emotion. I’ve always liked  _ No. 2 _ , dark as it is. It helps me contextualize myself better.”

Asahi nods, staring at the wide expanse of color in front of him. Orange fills his vision, until he can barely make out the rest of the room in his periphery and the sounds and chatter begin to fade away. 

Finally, he shrugs. “I can’t say I know too much about the science of it, but I like this one.” 

“ _ Orange and Yellow _ ,” Kita says. “Fitting.”

Before Asahi can respond, or ask what Kita means by that, a hand is resting on his shoulder, causing him to startle and turn around. 

“The meeting is starting soon,” Kuroo says with a smile, taking a step back when Nishinoya materializes out of nowhere to glare at him. “Daichi asked me to fetch you.”

“Right,” Asahi says, shaking his head as he reminds himself that he’s here for a work transaction, first and foremost. Quite possibly his last with the Karasuno cartel. 

He follows Kuroo into a side room where Daichi waits with the head of the Shiratorizawa syndicate. Behind them, Tendou gives Asahi a little wave of his fingers and a wink that has a shiver crawling down his back. 

“Now that my people are here,” Daichi says, addressing Ushijima, “I’d like to see the payment.” 

Ushijima nods, wordlessly walking over to the small table in the corner of the room with a briefcase lying on top. He unclasps and opens it, revealing a tiny clay figurine. “We trust that this will be suitable?” 

Daichi leans in close to inspect it, and Asahi finds himself holding his breath in anticipation even though the contracts have already been written. After a long moment of pause, he finally straightens up and stretches out a hand with a smile. “I believe it’s a deal.” 

After the final details of the contract are discussed and noted down, Asahi finds himself alone with Daichi as the rest of the clients head back out to appreciate the gallery. 

“How have you been enjoying the show?” Daichi asks, leaning back against the wall as he lights up a cigarette. 

“It’s beautiful,” Asahi answers with a small smile, “But…” 

“It’s all stolen work?” Daichi supplies. Asahi nods timidly at that. Daichi barks out a laugh, waving his hand through the air as smoke trails after it. “These people. They just shut everything beautiful behind ropes and glass and bars. It’s so… limiting,” he says, letting out a long sigh. “But people like me, like us,” he continues, pointing out to where Tanaka and Sugawara are shaking up bottles of champagne, “we don’t allow ourselves to be limited in any way. So yeah, it’s illegal.” Daichi stubs out the cigarette under his foot, crushing it into the ground. “But my god, it feels good.” 

Asahi blinks as he stares down at the crushed cigarette butt, the way the glowing embers fizzle out so quickly. He looks up and watches as Nishinoya attempts to open one of the bottles, only to end up with champagne drenching his clothes and hair. Pulling a knife out of somewhere that even Kenma couldn’t have found, he begins to chase Tanaka around while Sugawara laughs at them both. 

“So,” Daichi’s voice comes from beside him again. “I’m assuming you’re leaving now that your six months are up?”

Asahi lets out a long sigh, eyes tracing back beyond Nishinoya and over to the  _ Orange and Yellow _ still hanging on the wall. 

“If I leave… I’m assuming the bodyguard benefits would end, huh?”

Daichi smiles. “If you stay, you’d get full-time employee status, as well as health insurance. And of course, you would get to keep your bodyguard, as long as you are an asset to us.” 

Asahi turns to Daichi, squaring his shoulders and holding out his hand. 

“I believe it’s a deal.”

  
  


Just for fun, this is how I imagined the groups and their specialties:

  * Inarizaki: security detail, protection
  * Karasuno: drugs (cocaine, opium)
  * Aoba Johsai: clubs, bars, “entertainment” 
  * Shiratorizawa: smuggling, in particular art, jewelry, luxury goods
  * Date Tech: bodyguards, soldiers, “cleanup” 
  * Nekoma: loan sharks, territory (owns most “neutral” ground locations, as a result hosts most transactional events) 
  * Fukurodani (not featured): intelligence detail, spies (bokuto is frequently a decoy) 
  * Johzenji (not featured): weapons, gambling 
  * Nohebi (not featured): politics, blackmail
  * Kamomedai (not featured): assassinations, bounty hunters
  * Itachiyama (not featured): counterfeits, forgery 



**Author's Note:**

> haha that was definitely interesting to write! i really enjoy the universe i set up, so I'll definitely consider coming back to this organized crime au at some point! maybe from different teams' perspectives... thanks again to mellow!
> 
> [original tweet](https://twitter.com/ch3w2/status/1341426322309001217?s=20)
> 
> find me on [[twitter (ch3w2)](https://twitter.com/ch3w2)] and [[tumblr (ch3w2)](http://ch3w2.tumblr.com/)]!  
>  **kudos and comments always appreciated**
> 
> my carrd is [ch3w2.carrd.co](https://ch3w2.carrd.co/) for more information about requests


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